


Les Liaisons Dangereus

by eigengrau



Series: Girl!Will Graham [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Genderbend, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eigengrau/pseuds/eigengrau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack doesn't mean to interrupt. Really, he doesn't. But they've just found the body of a man with a hand surgically attached to the stump of his neck, where his head should be. Jack doesn't like to admit that he's baffled, but he's man enough to acknowledge when he needs another pair of eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Les Liaisons Dangereus

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/1375.html?thread=240991#cmt240991
> 
> "Jack catches Girl!Will/Hannibal going at it like rabbits on the therapy couch."

Jack doesn't mean to interrupt. Really, he doesn't. But they've just found the body of a man with a hand surgically attached to the stump of his neck, where his head should be. Jack doesn't like to admit that he's baffled, but he's man enough to acknowledge when he needs another pair of eyes.  
  
Specifically, Will Graham's eyes. But she hasn't been answering her phone, though Jack's called her three, four times in the last hour. He knows that she has her sessions with Dr. Lecter on Fridays, thinks that if she's anywhere, she'll probably be at his office. And if she isn't, he'll know where she is. The two of them seem close- a twist that has taken Jack by surprise. Considering their first meeting, when Will had stormed out of the room, cheeks flushed with anger at Lecter's probing assumptions, Jack had thought they would never have gotten along. But these days, Lecter seems to follow quietly behind Will wherever she goes, from crime scene to crime scene. Muttering to her when her eyes glaze over after staring at gory photos for too long. Making sure she eats. He's happy that the therapy has been working out well enough that the two can become friends- or whatever passes for friendship with a woman like Will.  
  
He makes his way into Lecter's perfectly furnished waiting room and stands there, unsure of what to do with himself. He considers calling Will again, but is sure that his message would just go to the voicemail after a minute of ringing, that he would hear the terse, short message, blurted awkwardly by a mouth too close to the receiver: "Will Graham... 's phone. Leave, uh... leave a message."   
  
Their session can't go on for too much longer. He first sent Will a text at noon- it's nearly two o'clock now, and she still hasn't responded. Surely therapy sessions don't go on that long. Not that Average, Well-Adjusted Jack Crawford would know. He wonders if maybe she left her phone in Lecter's office by accident. He doesn't want to risk interrupting Lecter if he's with another patient- he remembers the cold death glare he'd received when they'd first met- and he definitely doesn't want to interrupt the doctor and Will. He worries about Will, is probably more protective of her than he should be, but it's essential to his own good night's sleep that he not think too much about how her empathy effects her mind. Untangling that bush of thorns is Lecter's job, not his.   
  
Still. There's a dead guy with striking cosmetic alterations waiting for them in Virginia. He  _needs_  Will right now. This is her area of expertise, like it or not.  
  
So Jack pushes open the door, just a crack, to check what's going on inside.  
  
He regrets doing so immediately.  
  
From where he's hiding behind the door he can see most of the spacious office, bookshelves framing the room. While it had been quiet in the waiting area, behind the thick wood door, now he can hear the soft shuffling of cloth, the slick slap of skin against skin, and stifled panting. A woman's gasp cuts through the warm air.  
  
It takes a second for him to find them, though he's already figured out what's going on. When his eyes finally light on the blue sofa pushed up by the one bare wall, he can feel the embarrassed blush that spreads up his neck.  
  
Will is spread out on the couch, one of her legs dangling off the edge. Her jeans lie in a nearby pile on the floor, her plaid shirt a foot away. Her short curly hair is a mess, her eyes are closed, and between her thighs, towering over her like a vampire, is Hannibal Lecter. He is nearly fully clothed, dressed down only in the sense that his jacket is neatly folded over the arm of the sofa. His pants must be open, though, because his hips snap forward where his body meets Will's and she lets out another gasp, a broken noise that gets cut off halfway through when he leans down and presses his thin lips to hers. Her fingers scrabble against the silky material of his waistcoat, pulling him closer to her, but he breaks away, straightening back up to drive forward again and pound into her. Her back arches up off the sofa. She pants with every move of his hips. He is silent, for the most part, breaking his muteness with an occasional heavy breath or a groan. His hair falls into his eyes, and the action is so unlike his usual neatness that for a second Jack is almost more embarrassed at having seen  _that_  than he is at having caught then mid-coitus.   
  
This is wrong. He should leave right now, come back later. Or he should break in, pull Lecter off- what they're doing, it can't be any kind of ethical. He knows how much Will hates to be touched, doesn't even like to make eye contact.   
  
But there she is, body twisting achingly under Lecter's, cupping his sharp face in her hands to drag him down for another kiss. She looks at him like a savior, eyes shining under glasses that have been pushed askew, and he looks back at her worshipfully. Each stares like the other is a sacred thing, even as he fucks her hard and rough on the pristine couch. His fingernails are cutting into her hips, her breasts, her shoulders- Jack can see the red half-moons on her pale skin every time Lecter moves his blunt hands. But the noises that they make aren't pained or angry, just desperate. Will sounds like every breath that she takes could be her last, like a drowning woman gasps at the air. Lecter grunts once, shuddering, and buries his face in the space between her throat and shoulder. She clutches him to her and they shiver out their orgasms together, silently.  
  
It's only when Lecter pulls out that Jack realizes the full implication of the fact that he's been watching. Guilt builds in his gut and he closes the door as quickly and quietly as he can. The last thing that he sees in that office is Lecter, tenderly brushing the hair out of Will's face and dropping a kiss on her forehead.  
  
Jack sits down heavily in the waiting room and stares at his hands. A few minutes later the door slams open and Will bursts out, cell phone in one hand. Her hair is still a mess, the buttons on her shirt crooked, and she blushes when she sees him there and averts her eyes.  
  
"Jack, sorry, I just got your messages, my phone was turned off-"  
  
Lecter follows after her, straightening his tie. He's back in his neatly pressed jacket, and looks altogether more organized than Will. A sated smile curls at his lips. Jack can't help but think that he looks like a snake that's just been fed.  
  
"It's fine," he reassures Will. She doesn't want to make eye contact, but right now he doesn't think he would be able to look her in the eye even if she did. "We need you down in Virginia to look at a new body."  
  
"Anything interesting?" Lecter asks, and all the hairs on Jack's neck stand up.   
  
Against his instincts, Jack explains. Gets sick when he sees how Lecter's eyes light up. Feels guilty when Will's do, too, though with sick fascination more than with the calm interest so evident in Lecter's. He starts out into the hall. Will walks after him, her stride carefully ginger, then stops to look back at Lecter.  
  
"Coming?" She asks, and Jack frowns.  
  
Lecter smiles. "I'll get my coat."


End file.
